Actions speak louder then words
by Hmob1994
Summary: But letters speak louder then both. When an entrapped Prussia hears about his little Brother's crumbling relationship, he'd do anything to help. But how is he to do that if he can't leave his room?


**A note from ME!** Lengthy title is lengthy…

Urgh, I really shouldn't be writing one-shots, since I've got an ongoing story to write…

*Sigh*

Ah well! I've written one shots about France and Russia, and now one about Prussia… Maybe I'll write one shots about all the characters! *Laughs*

This isn't as historically accurate as my Russia shot…

In fact, it's not historically accurate at all…

Oh well! Enjoy!

**Actions speak louder then words, but letters speak louder then both.**

Prussia scowled as he stared at his ceiling. He could think of better things to do, like hugging Italy, or annoying West…

Then again, paperwork would be more enjoyable then the situation he was in; locked away in a drab room in the Soviet Union, forced to listen to Lithuania panic, Estonia rush, Latvia faint, and, occasionally, Russia mocking him in that detestable, happy, childish voice, murmuring about how _nice_ it would be once everyone became one with mother Russia, da? How _happy_ everyone would be without wars or hunger, and how Germany and America would join, da, da, and Japan, and France, and England, and cute little Italy…

Prussia's scowl deepened and he rolled over to lie on his stomach. If that bastard laid one dirty, shovel-like hand on innocent, naive Italy, Prussia would-

_Pick_

Prussia frowned, rolling over. What was that?

_Pick pick_

It was coming from the window…

"Oi, Prussia!" Prussia jolted up as a grinning, bespectacled head floated into view through the icy window.

"… America?" He exclaimed, standing up and striding to the window. He undid the latch and pulled the window in as far as it would let him, which was a mere six or seven inches, after Russia had caught Prussia stranded in the frozen wasteland the taller nation called home after climbing out of the window. Even if Prussia was stupid enough to try trekking through Russia again without a guide or winter equipment, he wouldn't be able to get out this time.

"Yo!" America waved jauntily, teetering slightly. Prussia tried to look down past the super nation, but couldn't get his head out of the window.

"How are you…?" He wondered aloud. It _was_ the second story, after all… America waved dismissively.

"That doesn't matter." He said. "Look, Russia won't relinquish his hold on you – he's actually built a wall to try to keep us out, but because I'm a hero, I came to deliver some stuff!" Prussia raised an eyebrow at the hero part, but otherwise didn't comment as America delved into his pocket, bringing out a yellow bundle.

"First." He presented proudly. Prussia almost squealed in relief and excitement. He didn't though – squealing would be extremely unmanly.

"Gilbird!" He greeted as the chick slipped through the gap and flew up to settle in Prussia's hair. America smiled.

"Remember to keep him out of Russia's sight though." He said, reaching back into the bag. "I've got a couple of magazines for you as well, and a letter from your brother with pen and paper. We'll try to sneak in again next week, so we can take back your reply." He continued, passing the treasured gifts to the ecstatic Albino. America paused before giving him the last package.

"This is from Italy…" He said, slightly guarded. "He's been staying with me for a while now, so he asked me to bring this for you." Prussia nodded eagerly as he carefully accepted the neatly wrapped bundle, a letter attached to the top. He paused.

"How… how is he?" He asked. America seemed to waver.

"He's… fine." He said. "Healthy. But not _happy_. He cries a lot at night – he blames himself for you being here. And Germany… Isn't being the most forgiving. He's trying, but…" America trailed off. Prussia nodded.

"I see…" He said, thinking. Before he could say anything, voices drifted up.

"_Mon ami,_ hate to rush you, but I think the guards are coming! Sorry, Prussia!"

"Bloody hell, do you two know how heavy you both are? Now come on! I can hear voices!" America saluted jauntily before disappearing from sight. Prussia hurriedly shut the window, backing away in case the guards decided to look up. Retrieving his packages, he sat on the bed, opening the letter from Germany.

_Prussia._

_Hope you are doing well. Sorry I couldn't deliver this to you directly – the Allies were worried that them letting me leave home would draw Russia's suspicions._

_It's quiet without you – I have to admit, it's weird. The house has never been quiet._

_Japan is still recovering, but he looks to be growing healthier._

_Relationships between Russia and America are rocky – America, apparently, didn't tell Russia about the nuclear bomb, and Russia's accusing him of secrecy and treachery._

_America, England and France are supplying both our people with food, although it's not as much as they would like._

_Haven't heard much from Italy – only what America's told me._

_Try to remember to hide your possessions where Russia won't find them; evidence of the Allies helping you will not help us._

_Hope to be reunited with you soon._

_Germany._

Prussia smiled fondly. It was just like his little brother to write such a distant sounding letter, and yet… it was still a ray of love and hope in an otherwise dull life. He set aside the letter and magazines – he recognised them from Germany's own secret stash, and reminded himself to thank Germany in his letter back – and instead reached for Italy's letter.

_Ciao, Prussia!_

_How are you? I'm fine! I'm living with America at the moment. His food tastes like shit, but he's nice and funny! He reminds me a lot like you! I'm cooking a lot and eating well; I'm making a lot of yummy foods for America too! He likes them, but say's that his favourite is definitely Pizza. Ve~ hopefully I'll be able to make you food soon as well!_

_I'm sorry you're stuck with Russia, Prussia. If it wasn't for me, we might have won the war. And Germany wouldn't be so mad at me either. I don't want Germany to be mad at me. I was only following my boss's orders! Prussia, how do I tell him that I didn't want to leave Axis Powers? I'm afraid he won't believe anything I say._

_I hope Russia lets you go soon, so we can eat lots of yummy pasta together again!_

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano._

Prussia smiled fondly as he closed the letter. Italy was compassionate and cute even in his letters. He turned to the bundle attached to the letter, and sighed in content as he opened it, the smell of wurst and pasta drifting up from the delicious looking meal, placed in a lunch box with Prussia's flag painted carefully on the lid. There was a note written in Italy's delicate script pinned to it, and Prussia read it eagerly.

_Sorry I couldn't get you any beer, but Big Brother France said that the bottle might smash or leak before it reached you. England said that he and America would try to find a safe way to transport it though, so hopefully next time you will get beer as well as Pasta and Wurst! Ve~ England isn't as scary as I thought anymore~ although his food still tastes like shit._

Prussia laughed as he shook his head. If England and America achieved their 'safe beer' goal, he could enjoy a nice cold one the following week. He set aside the pasta for later, and fished out the pen and paper America had given him, smirking as he did so. He had a plan…

_One Week Later_

Germany read the letter he had received from his brother tiredly and eagerly. Being split into four parts really did a country in, but this was the first he'd heard from his brother for _months_…

_Yo West!_

_What a lovely letter! I could really feel the love radiating from it! Jeez, little bro, I'm your brother, not your lawyer! If you can't loosen up when you're writing a letter to me, then when can you loosen up!_

_Thanks for the porno, by the way. The girls on page ten are almost as awesome as me… damn, those are some fine racks. I'd have loved to be at that slumber party…_

_I don't have mush more to say except don't go in my room, DEFINETLY don't go in the basement, and can you deliver the letter attached to Italy? I only had one envelope. Don't read it though – it's for Italy's eyes only!_

_See you soon!_

_Prussia._

Germany sighed as he finished reading the letter. Well, he seemed happy, although you couldn't tell very well through a letter…

He looked at the attached paper, folded up tightly, as he walked down the corridors. The part of him that had gotten used to opening Italy's mail because the carefree country never opened it himself was itching to read it, but the rest of him knew that, now they were no longer allies, there were boundaries set that they had to abide by. Therefore, Italy had the right to privacy and distance from his old ally, no matter how much said 'old ally' wished otherwise.

Germany paused at the door to Italy's room. The energetic man was still staying at America's house for the moment, and America had let Germany in with a knowing look on his face. Germany took a breath to steady himself and lifted his hand, rapping smartly on the door. On the other side, he could hear his old friend stumble, before calling out.

"Ve~ Coming!" There was a couple of crashes, each one making Germany wince, before the door was opened, revealing Italy, dressed in a painters smock, a line of blue paint slashed on one cheek. He paused, eyes widening slightly as he took in the taller man.

"Ve~ Ger- Germany!" He greeted, slightly shaky. Germany bowed his head.

"I've come with a letter for you from my brother." He said, handing the nation the folded paper. Italy looked at it blankly before taking and opening it. Germany bowed his head again.

"I'll leave you to read it." He said, turning away, but was stopped by a strangled shout.

"Wait!" Germany looked back at Italy, and stumbled back, a blush starting to dance across his cheeks as a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. Italy buried his face into Germany's face.

"I'm sorry!" He cried, his voice muffled. "I'm sorry… I didn't want to leave Axis! But… My boss… and my people… all of them wanted to pull out… I couldn't…" He trailed off. "Just… please don't hate me…" He whispered. Germany blinked at the older – but more immature – nation, before awkwardly patting his back.

"I don't… I mean, I wouldn't…" He stammered. He wasn't as good as Italy at expressing his feelings – it had been hard when they were allies to tell Italy he didn't hate him. Now it was almost impossible. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around the Italian. Actions speak louder then words, right?

Behind him, the letter Italy had dropped in his haste to stop Germany lay forgotten, containing one line of text.

_Here you go Italy! Apologize now!_

**A note from ME! **There you go! Complete with GerIta fluff and cheesy ending! ^^


End file.
